iTunes Shuffle
by Aiyta
Summary: Song drabbles.
1. Shuffle 1

iTunes Shuffle

WARNING: These songs involve swearing, the stories do not, if you don't like swearing simply do not read the italicised words.

& yeah, I listen to rap, and attempted to make useful stories from rap - eh, sue me.

**Disclaimer: I don't even own these cartoons and these songs. I'm totally serious.**

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Play Your Part

_"You just want jewellery and all them fuckin' shopping sprees, but that ain't stopping me and I ain't stopping you, see we'll be cool as long as you just play your part."_

Curly watched as his raven-haired angel approached down the hallway, designer jewels hanging from her neck. Inwardly he sighed, he was tired of this game.

"Rhonda my love, let me take a lock of your hair." He exclaimed wildly, as she passed by.

Rhonda stopped short, as expected she stared at him with disdain, "Leave me alone, little freak" she hissed.

Curly rolled his eyes as she walked away, slowly he unfolded the note she had shoved into his hands.

_Curly, meet me in the janitors closet in 10 minutes. Rhonda xx_

He hated playing this game, playing his part in the hallway, but he loved that woman – what could he do?

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Hit It On The Road

_"Just got to New York, I just got out the plane, shawty know my name, she lookin' at my frames, I'm lookin' at her frame."_

Typical, Gerald and Phoebe go away on a road trip and they invite him and Helga to tag along.

How was he to live through the sarcastic comments, the teasing?

More importantly how was he going to live with that body, the long blonde curls, the perfect chest in low-cut tops, that ass?

Phoebe and Gerald tentatively ask if they can spend the night together. That leaves Arnold in a room with Helga.

Great, he'd have to live in a cold shower for this entire trip.

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Loving You No More

_"Loving you no more, I just I can't, I just can't be loving you no more."_

Phoebe gripped her Science text-books, a tear escaping her eyes.

How long had this been going on for? How long had she been dependant on his affections?

Phoebe was a smart girl, she was smarter than following around tall basketball players, putting his happiness before hers.

Had she been stupid to place her faith in him, in the possibility that he could truly love her back, more than he loved a life as a 'player'?

Phoebe's calculations summarised that she could no longer do this, she could not love him anymore.

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Throwed Off

_"I'm in my own zone, it got me throwed off, I break these bitches down, I break these hoes off."_

Lila walked slowly into the large dark alley behind HS118, moving toward the thick smoke that filled the air.

Sid eyed her nervously, carefully calculating his fight or flight reflex.

"I want some." Lila demanded.

Sid looked her up and down and lit up a roll for her, "Are you serious?"

Lila snatched the offering from his hand, sitting down beside him, she smirked.

She was serious, she was _ever so_ serious. Lila Sawyer was tired of being good.

.

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Venus vs. Mars

_"I hits it from the back, shawty like the front, the Bonnie to my Clyde, both riding shotgun."_

Gerald flicked his eyes between his best friend and his girlfriend, consumed in another disagreement.

Everything she was, he was not and nothing seemed to click.

One moment she was poetic, the next abusive while he wavered between optimistic and confused.

Gerald peered at his watch, this had gone on for 14 minutes, it would not last much longer.

Moments later their words subsided as they shared a meaningful kiss.

Helga and Arnold just worked, Gerald had given up trying to figure out why, but whatever they had was so ... right.

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Energy

_"I'm having nightmares from sleeping with the energy, how do we reverse the chemistry? I don't want us to be the end of me, this love is taking all of my energy."_

This was just a phase, a long and arduous phase, right?

Arnold's energy was drained.

She was the enemy, mysterious and enigmatic, but she was his tormentor.

What was all this chemistry, the tension he felt and where did the butterflies in the stomach come from?

Nightmares plagued his sleep, the beautiful blonde bully with piercing blue eyes, gorgeous and terrifying.

Helga Pataki, who was she... truly?

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I Made It

_"I look up to the sky and now the world is mine, I've known it all my life, I made it, I used to dream about the life I'm living now, I know that there's no doubt, I made it."_

What had she ever done to deserve this?

Every fantasy, every poem, every word it had all unfolded in front of her.

Her heart beat hard against her rib cage harder by the day.

She was almost scared to move, scared she'd shatter such a perfect daydream.

"It's not a dream Helga" Arnold whispered as he pulled her close.

She had made it, her every dream was reality.

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Diced Pineapples

_"Call me crazy shit at least you're calling, feels better when you let it out don't it girl, know it's easy to get caught up in the moment, when you say it cause you mad then you take it all back."_

Arnold struggled to tear his eyes away from the beauty making her way up the sand from the sparkling blue water.

She lightly ruffled her damp hair as it spilled over her shoulders, dripping down onto that amazing body, dressed in that amazing pink bikini.

Arnold smiled blankly at her, she glared him down.

"Stop smiling." She spat, rolling her eyes, he didn't mind at all – so long as she was talking to him he was happy.

It wasn't long before they were rolling around in the sand making out.

Helga panted above him, dusting the sand from her legs, "Heat of the moment?" she suggested.

Unwillingly he nodded in agreement. Why did this always happen?

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Knock You Down

_"Won't see it coming when it happens, but when it happens you're gonna feel it, let me tell you now, when love comes and knocks you down."_

Love was a strange emotion, it took your breath away and it took your mind with it. Phoebe was intelligent, far too intelligent to let such an emotion take her common sense away. But, every time he walked by, she was floored.

Helga always said you couldn't choose love, it came and it smacked you in the face and it wouldn't go away. Phoebe assumed she was right.

Yet, of everybody to love, why did she have to desire the basketball star, the guy with the entire cheerleading team hanging from him?

It was worth the fall, it was worth the loss of her mind, when he turned to the basketball guys and the cheerleaders behind him, "You guys go without me, I'm gonna kick it with Phoebe today."

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Take Care

_"When you're ready just say you're ready, when all the baggage just ain't as heavy and the party's over just don't forget me, we'll change the pace and just go slow, you won't ever have to worry, you won't ever have to hide, you've seen all my mistakes so look me in my eyes."_

Nobody knows Helga Pataki like I do, nobody ever has. No matter what they say about her, my mind doesn't change.

I can't deny to myself that I love her, that I care about her but I lie if I'm asked.

I see her push me away, so I give her space. The truth hurts her and her lies heal the fear she holds.

I wish she wouldn't be so afraid, so ashamed, we've all got our secrets – it's not so bad. I watch her run from me, say she hates me, but I see it in her eyes that it's not true.

She hates being alone but she'll never admit she loves me, even though we both know that she does.

When she's ready, she will tell me and I'll be there for her.

One day she won't need to worry, and we won't need to hide.

Helga Pataki, when the time comes, I'll take care of you.

But for now... we're only nine.

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My Chick Bad

_"She knock a bitch out and fight, come out swinging like Tiger Woods wife, yeah she can get a little hasty."_

Sure, at first it was a shock and everybody fell out of their seats and rolled around in disbelief. But now, they just accepted it – nobody continued to appreciate how STRANGEthis was!

Arnold's sitting next to me, giving Sid a pep-talk on doing the right thing, and beginning that extra credit math assignment Mr Simmons handed out. Typical.

Helga's storming around the cafeteria, spewing out cuss words that I don't think any ten year old should know and defiantly _tearing up_ the maths assignment. Typical.

Sid thanks Arnold for his advice and quickly leaves to rectify his aforementioned problems and WHACK over the other side of the cafeteria Harold's lunch tray goes flying as Helga hastily suggests he shut his big fat mouth next time.

Arnold raises his head at the sound of her voice, letting out a dreamy sigh he says, "That's my girl."

I roll my eyes, he's a bold kid... a bold kid.

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Gold Digger

_"Now I ain't sayin' she a gold digger, but she ain't messin' with no broke niggas."_

I had heard all sorts of things about her, and what she'd 'accomplished' since high school.

I knew for a fact that she drove around town in sparkling gold Rolls Royce and I knew for a fact she lived in a secluded manor.

I heard she had a child, two or three years old, I'd heard a rumour his father was a prominent designer.

I knew she was single and I knew she'd never been married.

I heard she'd dated a few actors, a few photographers and countless fashion moguls.

I knew her game, she'd been destined for this life since the very moment I'd met her.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was a gold digger, but that didn't matter, I still loved her.

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Wake Up Go

_"Girl you don't need no make up, you can just wake up go, wake up go."_

Helga struggled with the strange black pen in her hand, her eyes watering from the torture. She would come back to that later.

She eyed the dangerously hot curling iron and winced as she brought it toward her long locks.

"Please do not burn me." She whispered to the strange beauty utensil.

Helga watched as the freshly curled lock fell over her shoulders, one section down... the entire rest of her head to go. She groaned, this was time consuming.

She glanced at her watch, she had half an hour, and she hadn't even managed to figure out whether foundation or concealer went first.

"What are you doing?" Said a voice behind her.

"Trying to... be a girl." Helga said, glancing at her reflection and deducing that currently she looked much more like a mess than a girl.

Arnold rolled his eyes, "You're already a girl, a beautiful one, you don't need all that weird stuff." he said, placing a kiss on her cheek.

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Love Lockdown

_"I'm not loving you the way I wanted to, see I wanna move but can't escape from you, so I keep it low, keep a secret code, so everybody else don't have to know."_

Helga loved him, she loved him more than anything or anyone else. Yet, it wasn't for anyone to know, it was her secret and hers alone.

She'd already been forced to reveal her feelings to far too many people and of course she'd made the horrible mistake of shouting it in Arnold's face on the FTI rooftop. Thank goodness she'd been able to label that one as 'heat of the moment' and wriggle herself free from facing the awkward reality of her words.

Helga was not going to let her guard down again. No more alleyway monologues, no more maths book shrines and certainly no more parrots...

But, could she keep her feelings on lockdown forever, or maybe the question was, _should she_?

Because right now she was sitting in the middle of a dense jungle and he was looking into her eyes with his hand in hers, and it was becoming difficult to feign indifference.

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Batter Up

_"From the crowd when I take the mile, let me show 'em how, hit the ball on the ground and make 'em get down, batter up."_

Whoosh.

The ball flew high, narrowly avoiding smacking me right in the face.

"What the hell was that for Pataki?" Gerald interjected on my behalf as I took a moment to recover from the shock.

Helga shrugged, an evil smirk covering her face, "Wouldn't have been a problem if Football Head could actually hit." she spat back at him.

I smiled. Yeah, you heard me, I practically grinned.

Sure, she threw a baseball at my head deliberately, but I wanted nothing more than to chase that girl, tackle her to the ground and make-out with her – right here, right now.

I wasn't actually _going _to do that though, because I still wasn't sure whether all those things she'd said on that rooftop had been the truth.

"Hey! Earth to hair boy!" Helga said impatiently from the pitchers mound, "You going to step up to the plate anytime this century or should I peg this at your face for real?" she asked.

What a girl.

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**P.S. I will continue to add to this...**


	2. Shuffle 2

Burn This City

_"Stop playin' with me, cannon in my hand, and I'll be damned if any man disrespect me on my land."_

Big Gino stepped toward the two boys in the alleyway, two henchmen behind him and an affiliate on look-out.

"I think it's time we taught you boys a lesson." Big Gino smirked.

Arnold sighed, "This isn't the way to solve the problem. Sid didn't even mean to trip you in the hallway." he calmly reasoned, whilst Sid nodded in agreement.

"See, it's that goody-two-shoes attitude that wound you up in this alleyway to begin with Arnold, this was just between me and Sid before you tried to intervene." Big Gino reiterated.

Nervously, Big Gino's right hand man tapped him on the shoulder, "Uh, boss, I'm not so sure about this... I mean, we should pound Sid for sure but... you know what will happen if words gets out we did something to Arnold...well..." the boy said.

Big Gino casually waved his hand at the suggestion, "I'm sure Arnold won't say a word, right?" he grinned.

Arnold shrugged, "I won't have to."

Big Gino frowned at his confidence for a moment, before the boy in the look-out position screamed in panic, "She's coming!"

Four suit-clad boys spun on their heels, finding themselves face to face with an unimpressed girl in a pink dress. Raising her eyebrow she surveyed the scene and, with a hint of annoyance, she asked "What do you think you're doing?"

Big Gino's left-hand man and the look-out promptly fled the scene, leaving Big Gino to stare at his right-hand man in fear and stutter, "I-I uhh... We were.."

"Just run for it Gino!" His right-hand man wailed, and together they sprinted from the alleyway.

Sid let out a long sigh of relief, "Boy howdy, it's times like these I'm glad Helga Pataki is your girlfriend." he said to Arnold.

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How To Love

_"You had a lot of crooks tryna steal your heart, never really had love, couldn't ever figure out how to love, see you had a lot of moments that didn't last forever, now you in this corner tryna put it together, how to love."_

Helga knew how to perform strange rituals, stalk him, build shrines, write passionate poems and she certainly knew how to _feel _love for him. Helga worshipped the ground he walked on, but she was slowly realising, she didn't know _how to love him_.

Helga knew how to cut a hole in her maths book, but she didn't know how to smile at him. She knew the Boarding House air-vent system like the back of her hand, but she didn't know how to take his hand.

Helga huddled herself into the trunk of the large tree she was sitting beneath and let a lone tear run down her cheek. He was going to say it, she heard it, she heard the words '_Helga, I lo-' _and she ran for it.

Helga had never known love, so she should have known she'd never be able to express it... never be able to _handle _it.

"Helga?" Arnold's voice said softly behind her.

Helga winced, he'd found her, "No." she whispered.

"You didn't let me finish." Arnold said, taking hold of her hand before she could run again.

"Leave me alone." Helga wailed, "Helga G. Pataki does not do love."

Arnold grinned at her, "Well, tell Helga G. Pataki that I'm pretty new to the whole thing too, but I think we should learn together."

"And what if she says no?" Helga asked softly.

Arnold pulled her close and whispered into her ear, "I'm not taking no for an answer."

Helga felt his lips meet hers, and cursed herself for the tiny whimpering nose that escaped her. If ever anybody could teach her how to love, it was him.

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Down

_"Baby don't worry, you are my only, you won't be lonely, even if the sky is falling down, you'll be my only, no need to worry, baby are you down, down, down, down?"_

Helga apprehensively tore open the crisp white envelope covered in air-mail stamps, biting her lip she read the first letter she'd received from her beloved in months...

_Dear Helga,  
I don't know why you haven't written to me since I left Hillwood, but whatever the reason is, I want you to know that I don't resent you for it. I'm writing this letter because Phoebe contacted me, she's worried about you, and after speaking with her, I'm worried about you too. I understand you probably don't want to talk about it, or read a letter about me talking about it... so I won't.  
I just wanted to tell you a few important things.  
Helga, no matter how many miles separate us I will always care for you and I never want you to feel alone in this world. I know we broke up before I left, but I wish we didn't have to, I think about you every single day.  
I don't know if you know this, but when we were in fourth grade Rhonda made me take her 'Marriage Predictor' test, I got you 110 times. One day, if you say yes, I'm going to marry you Helga Pataki.  
I want you by my side, indefinitely, I don't want anybody else and I don't want to wait.  
I'm coming home, and...  
I love you.  
Arnold._

Shaking violently, the seventeen year old girl collapsed onto her bedroom floor. He was coming home.

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I'm Gonna Be Alright

_"I used to say I couldn't do it but I did it, after telling everybody that I wasn't with it, though it brings tears to my eyes I can feel it, I know inside I'm gonna be alright."_

I said I couldn't live without him, but I guess I did it. I'm still doing it. Still living, breathing, functioning – all without him.

I cried for weeks when he left, some days I still get upset, but, I'm not that little blonde girl with the pigtails and the locket anymore.

I never thought I'd be able to say I felt content just doing things for myself. Helga Pataki, sixteen, single and strong. I suppose I never realised just how independent I could be.

I sat my family down for a serious chat without any yelling or sarcasm. I aced all my final exams. I got my poems published. I made new friends. I made the basketball team. I did it all myself.

Sure, the Football Head is miles away in San Lorenzo and I'm still madly in love with him, but I'm not worried. I'm gonna be alright.

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See You In My Nightmares

_"I got the right to put up a fight but not quite cause you cut off my light, but my sight is better tonight and I might, see you in my nightmares, oh how did you get there?"_

Arnold sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat dripping from his forehead as he gasped breathlessly, searching for air. This had been going on for weeks now, constant nightmares, nightmares of _her_.

Arnold could always guarantee seeing Helga's face as he slept. The dreams all felt so real, so vivid and clear.

How did she wind her way into his mind, consume his nightly subconscious and bring all his feelings to life in the darkness?

Arnold killed her, every single night; he kissed her and killed her, put a gun to her head and told her he didn't love her. Only to wake up in tears.

Something, somewhere, deep down was trying to tell him something. Something was igniting a fear, a feeling, in him every single night.

Arnold relaxed onto his pillow, he would fight this, he would make sense of his dreams, "See you soon Helga." he whispered as he drifted back to sleep.

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Swagga Like Us

_"No one on the corner has swagga like us, swagga like us... I slaved my whole life, now I'm the master, na na, how it feel to wake up and be the shit."_

Timidly, the small freshman student opened the painted green door to the second-story Janitor's Closet, a closet that hadn't been used by a janitor for over two years. Her entry was greeted with stern gazes from the two Junior's inside.

One sat in the corner, on a comfortable leather couch, admiring her work as she filed away at her long nails. Her long and straight black hair falling down below her waist and a short red dress clinging to her slim frame. The other, sat casually in a desk chair, her feet propped up onto the table in front of her as she wrote in a pink-covered notebook. She styled her wavy blonde hair in a loose ponytail and wore a pink striped sweater with pale denim jeans, a pair of brand new kicks adorning her feet.

"Can we help you little girl?" The girl with the perfectly manicured nails enquired icily.

The young freshman gulped nervously, searching for the right words, these girls could destroy you if they so chose – making a good first impression was vital.

"I-I, uh, require assistance..." She began nervously, "Full payment of course!"

The blonde raised an eyebrow, "What kind of assistance?"

"Oh... Ok, I need you to... I need the retrieval of an item, a golden bracelet. Ms Peterson confiscated it but I _need _it back." The younger girl urged.

"That's Helga's area of expertise." The dark-haired girl quipped, pointing toward her tall counterpart.

Helga smirked at the young girl, "The bracelet you need, it wouldn't happen to be engraved would it?"

The girl nodded nervously, "But I'm not telling you what it says!" said defended.

Helga slowly approached her, "Trust me when I say we have an understanding. I'll get your bracelet back... and don't worry about payment, this one's on the house." she winked.

"Oh, uh, thanks! Thank you!" The small girl squeaked, making her quick exit from the 'office'.

"Reminds you of someone huh?" Smirked the girl on the leather couch as the freshman exited.

"I suppose so Rhondaloid." Helga winked, "Now, give me the directions to Ms Peterson's office..."


	3. Shuffle 3

**Disclaimer: **Funniest thing is... I still don't own it! Not even a tiny bit. You must be surprised.

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I'm Coming Home

_"A house is not a home, I hate this song, is a house really a home when your loved ones are gone?"_

Stella paced around the small kitchen in frustration, "It's getting worse! He's so unhappy!" she exclaimed, looking helplessly toward her husband.

Miles gazed toward his son's bedroom with a solemn look, "I know Stella, but he just won't talk to us about it." he sighed.

Stella stopped moving, pursing her lips together and considering her words, "I think I might have an idea what it's about." she revealed.

Miles lifted his head quickly, meeting her thoughtful gaze, "Really?" he asked.

Stella nodded, "Come with me." she whispered, quietly opening the wooden door to gaze upon their sleeping son, "Look at that." she pointed to a worn, delicate object clutched in their son's left hand.

Miles eyes grew wide, "A ribbon... a pink ribbon." he breathed.

Stella looked from the small window, out toward the dense jungles of San Lorenzo, "I wish he'd said something before we left Hillwood, I didn't know... I didn't realize." she said sadly.

Miles took her hand gently, "Neither did I Stell." he admitted.

Stella knelt beside her son as he began to shift in his sleep, the pink ribbon held tight to his chest as he moved, "We have to go back." she said sternly.

Miles smiled, "I couldn't agree more."

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My Darling Baby

_"She nothing like every other dime, I think about her and a couple things come to mind, thoughts like if she end up my baby mother, fine."_

Helga's eyes widened visibly, her anxious breaths sounding throughout the room, "How are you smiling right now?"

"Calm down." Arnold smiled warmly at her, feeling a fuzzy warm sensation as he looked into his girlfriend's eyes.

"I wasn't joking you know! It's real! This... is real!" Helga explained frantically, motioning toward her stomach.

Arnold moved closer toward her, "Helga, graduation is in four months, you'll still finish college, and your book is due to be published next month, money won't be an issue."

Helga played nervously with the hem of her dress, "It's, um... Not college or money I'm worried about... I, uh, didn't know if you would..."

Arnold burst into relieved laughter, "_That's _what you're worried about? You think after eight years of being together that I _wouldn't _want to have a child with you?" Arnold grinned as he took Helga in his arms, "Helga Pataki, I love you and I couldn't be happier."

"Really?" Helga whispered, tilting her head to look into his bright green eyes.

"Really. Now put that chocolate down, you're eating nothing but fruits and vegetables for the next nine months!" Arnold informed her, laughing as she pouted and punched him playfully in the arm.

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Receipt

_"I got to hold on, hold on to my receipt, got to redeem your love, that's exactly what I need."_

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd cleared her throat, wobbling slightly from the several flutes of champagne that she had recently consumed, as she stared into the microphone. Pulling a crumpled piece of paper from her small, and very expensive, designer clutch, she began to speak.

"I would like to start off..." Rhonda began confidently, "by quoting Arnold Shortman himself."

Intrigued faces all looked up at her expectantly as she, with a slight slur, began her very best Arnold impression.

"_Five... Blue...Seventh... Helga!?... That's impossible, there's no way I could ever marry Helga! You must have made a mistake._"

Joyfully she threw the piece of paper into the air, giggling mercilessly into the microphone and pointing toward the boy, now man, with the strangely shaped head.

"What's that Arnold? I was right! Course I was!... Oh, and Helga you look pretty... and I like the wine you've provided... Oh! And enjoy your honeymoon...Oooohh, if I ever find that Marriage Predictor I'll mail it to you... What's your address? 100 You-totally-married-Helga Street?... Helga! Did he ever tell you about the marriage predictor?... Oh, you two are just too cute... I wonder what your little babies will look like, probably have very strange heads I am cert- OOMPF!"

Rhonda huffed as her fiancé Thaddeus swiftly moved onto the stage and swept her up into his arms, before she could further embarrass herself.

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Twerk It

_"Girl already know that the rest don't got it, just imagine her topless, wave it around, girl don't tease me, all up in my face, how she get so cheeky, I ain't gotta pay this is a freebie, she dance like a stripper but she ain't easy."_

Helga Pataki had changed significantly over the years, but that didn't mean she'd stopped tormenting people, oh no, if anything she'd simply got even _better _at it. She was seductive, talented, wordy – men and women alike fawned over her, drawn in by the untouchable intrigue of the tall blonde spitfire with the shocking curves.

Arnold gripped his drink tightly in his hands, his eyes watching her every fluid movement across the crowded dance floor. _This _was worse than any spit-ball, he wondered if she had any idea how much she was torturing him right now. Of course she didn't, they had never been close, not that he ever knew _why_.

But, who was he to expect a chance? She was the bad girl, the sultry unattainable vixen with the fiery temper and the fascinating distaste for the many men who attempted to pursue her. He was the good boy, the moral do-gooder with the penchant for honesty and a large 'football shaped head' she seemed to despise so very much.

Helga wandered gracefully from the dance floor, slipping casually by Arnold's table and nonchalantly dropping a flat white object into his lap. Helga winked back at him as he lifted the thin card to his eyes, Helga's room key.

Arnold wasn't sure if he'd died and gone to heaven, or died and gone to hell – either way, he was already running for the elevator.

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Hold Up

_"She came with problems, fuck it that's my god son, sleepin' in the Maybach, wake me when the jet comes."_

Motorists on the highway watched as my bright blue sports car weaved through the traffic.

"Drive faster!" A scream came from the backseat.

I swore, I honestly and truthfully swore, that I would have nothing to do with this. Yet, here I was. "I'm already over the speed limit." I moaned in response, shooting a nervous glance to the backseat, preparing for the verbal onslaught I would receive for my comment.

"I couldn't give a toss about the speed limit." Came the breathless reply, followed by an ear piercing scream.

"You need to calm down." A concerned voice came from beside the crazy woman on my backseat.

"Calm down! Who do you think you are telling me to calm down? This is all your fault!" She screamed.

"Oh yeah I'm sure you were totally against the idea." I responded sarcastically.

"Gerald, as soon as this thing" she said motioning to her very pregnant stomach "is out of me, I'm going to teach you a lesson."

"See Arnold, this is exactly why I never wanted to be around while she was pregnant!" I sighed, Arnold looked up at me apologetically from the backseat, probably too scared to say anything.

Tears of pain formed in her eyes, I could almost feel sorry for the girl... until she resumed her screaming. "I swear if this baby has a football shaped head then I am going to be so mad!." Helga warned amongst her screams.

"Secretly, I think you want a little miniature Football Head." I sneered from the front seat.

"Oh good, I can see the hospital, the sooner I give birth the sooner I can put my fist in hair boys face." Helga muttered grimly.

Later on, I was awoken from my nap on the uncomfortable hospital chairs to meet a tiny bundle of happiness. Helga rested in the plain white bed with a newborn baby in her arms, she looked exhausted. Slowly she turned her gaze to me, "Thank you for your help Gerald" she said softly, with a sleepy smile.

"No problem." I replied.

"Come meet our baby girl." She offered, motioning me over to her bedside.

I held back a chuckle as I peered down at the little baby with an oblong head, no matter how many times Helga whined about 'having to push out that babys head', I knew she adored it.

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No More

_"No more lying friends, all these crappy friends, know that you pretend, they won't know when I know."_

Curly had waited seven long years for this, seven years of watching, knowing and anticipating -, seven years of waiting for the _truth_ to escape Helga G. Pataki's lips. He spent a lot of time watching people, understanding what made them tick, watching carefully from afar, and if there was one thing he recognised better than any other human trait it was obsession.

"WHY? YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I STOPPED THE KICKBALL FROM HITTING HIM IN THE FACE? WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT'S CAUSE I'M NICE? NO YOU WOULDN'T. WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT'S BECAUSE I WAS CONCERNED ABOUT THE SAFETY OF THE KICKBALL? NO YOU WOULDN'T. WE ALL KNOW THE ONLY LOGICAL EXPLAINATION IS THAT I ACTUALLY _LIKE _THE FOOTBALL HEAD! I MEAN, CRIMINY, HOW HAVE YOU NOT FIGURED IT OUT YET? I'M IN LOVE WITH THE BOY!"

Helga G. Pataki had cracked. She stood at the top of the jungle-gym, failing her arms wildly and shouting at the top of her lungs. She'd finally lost it.

Curly had always imagined that following this inevitable event, he and Helga could band together and, _after_ freeing all the animals, fight a determined battle side by side for their respective beloved's attentions.

Although, Curly immediately, and surprisingly, realised as Helga finished her frantic and loud confession that they would in fact _not _be taking up arms together – because Arnold Shortman had promptly grinned at the blonde pigtailed girl and jumped up to _join _her on the jungle-gym. Curly had to admit, he had certainly not been expecting _that_ reaction from the football-headed boy, nor the jaw-dropping kiss that he then proceeded to plant on Helga's lips

And with that, Curly decided he had learnt a valuable lesson in romantics today, and thus began to saunter across the playground, _pushing _Rhonda Wellington Lloyd out of his way and turning back to inform her that she had better, "stay out of my way, bucko."

.

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YM Salute

_"I solemnly swear if it ever go down, you ain't never gotta call me cause I'ma be there."_

Friday, June 17th.

Started like any other night, I went to the basketball courts and shot hoops, I dropped in for Pizza once I'd worked up an appetite and I called Phoebe while I made my way home. I complained to my long-time girlfriend about Helga G. Pataki being the very bane of my existence, and that was the last thing I uttered, before I was pulled into a laneway by three strong men.

It was after countless punches, a few swift kicks and at the point that I lay bleeding mercilessly on the cold hard ground that I saw the fuzzy image of a tall pale girl in a pink shirt. She walked over, ignoring the danger, ignoring how outnumbered she was, ignoring that these men were practiced felons with no prior knowledge of her so-called 'reputation' and ignoring that they certainly would not have feared a thin blonde sixteen year old girl. Nonetheless, she _made _them fear her, she threw her fists, she threw her words, she threw various alleyway items – she threw everything she had, desperately risking her own life in the hope of sparing mine.

At that very moment, I understood why Phoebe cherished her as a best friend. I understood why Lila insisted day after day that she was a good person deep down. I _finally _understood why Arnold was so in love with her.

"Sorry." I whined pitifully, as the three men made their way from the alley, and Helga knelt down beside me with a look of horrified concern.

A single little tear made its way down her cheek, "Thank god you're okay, Geraldo" she muttered sincerely.

Friday June 17th, the night Helga Pataki saved my life.


	4. Shuffle 4

Headlines

_"Started not to give a fuck and stopped fearing the consequence... and they sayin' I'm back, I'd agree with that, I just take my time with all this shit, I still believe in that."_

After April Fools Day, things got easier, Helga accepted the fact that Arnold _knew _her secret, and that thankfully, he seemed to have no intention of saying anything.

A few days later Mr Simmons read out an '_anonymous_' poem and Helga literally watched as the gears grinded in that little football headed brain, until his eyes finally grew a little wider and his fingers tapped nervously at his desk. Helga didn't pass out from embarrassment, and she was truly surprised she didn't, and thus she began to realize that she was not in fact going to '_absolutely die_' from the reality of Arnold knowing her feelings.

Arnold made it plainly clear that he was happy to maintain their previous social status quo, happy enough to shrug off her insults, accept a few spitballs to the head during class and even to receive a splashing at the drink fountain each morning. However, she quickly learnt, through series of subtle actions, that he was certainly not about to let her give him hell, nor would he stand patiently by if she tried.

Over the next weekend, Arnold found her lurking nearby his house, but he didn't say a word. Some days later she was mid-sentence during an explanation of why she _hated _parrots, when she plainly witnessed the look of complete enlightenment on his face.

At that point, she became pretty careless, forgetting to insult him the usual amount of times in a day, writing casually in her pink book despite him being nearby and staring at him intently on the bus.

And so, when three weeks later, Arnold approached her on the sidewalk with her previously missing locket in his hands, politely explaining that he had found Abner with it – Helga simply took the item and said, "Oh, thanks Arnold!" and carried about her day as usual.

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Spit In Your Face

_"If this is a race I ain't going for no pace, I am going for your place while ya home, how ya going to fuck with me if I ain't fuckin around, two eyes to the sky, ten toes touching the ground."_

(AU – Attempts to 'save the neighbourhood' failed.)

Helga watched the bulldozers roll; she was stuck frozen in her position as her world burst into flames around her. This was it. This was everything all _over. _This was the end.

Who was she now? Who was she without Hillwood, without Arnold, without PS118, without this perfectly manufactured charade she'd learnt to become? Was she _real _now?

Helga admittedly felt a little different, at this very moment she knew Arnold was learning that sometimes the world was just _bad_, and that almost made her angry at him. Angry that over all these years he hadn't learnt the difference between the cold hard _truth _and the little lies that existed at face value. Mostly, angry that even after all the glaring evidence she'd dangled before his eyes, he hadn't ever been able to figure _her_ out.

Feeling suddenly determined, Helga flew from her rooftop position, making a final run toward the Boarding House to once and for all shove the goddamned truth in Arnold's face as this neighbourhood slowly succumbed to ruin.

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Still Got It

_"We were young, full of insecurities, grown up now, all we got is old memories, used to be like enemies, arguing, too much pride to say sorry."_

Gerald watched carefully as a bubbly, and decidedly giggly, small brunette girl wandered over to his position at the bar. He and Arnold had been chatting with the girl and her friends for the past half an hour or so at a local club.

"Hey, your friends cute." the girl slurred happily as she slumped onto the bartop and used it to hold herself up.

Gerald scoffed a little, "Forget about it." he informed her bluntly.

"Whyyy?" she whined, "He seems to be enjoying our conversation."

Gerald raised an eyebrow at the girl and turned his position to face her directly, prepared yet again to ward off another hopeful young female from his best friend, "Impressing Arnold requires great dedication, first you've got to throw spitballs at the back of his head religiously, then pen a few hundred pages of nutty poetry, follow him around for a few years, insult the shape of his head and top it all off by cornering him on a rooftop, but, you have to be wearing a trench coat at the time." he informed her, as positely as possible, ignoring the look of pure bewilderment that had spread across her face, "So, considering that you've only known him about half an hour, you've hardly had the time."

The brunette girl frowned "Sheesh, talk about emotionally unavailable." she grumbled unhappily.

"Oh no" Gerald shook his head, "...if you want to talk about emotionally unavailable, you should introduce yourself to _her_." pointing his finger across the room in the direction of a particularly sour looking Helga Pataki.

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Your Love

_"I need your love, I want your love, girl it ain't the same if I ain't got your love, your love, all I want is you baby."_

Love, as defined by the dictionary, is a profoundly tender and passionate affection for another person.

Love is a complicated thing, it doesn't suit a single-sentence description.

Love is subjective, it's never the same for everyone.

Love is messy.

Love is warmth and tingles. Love is fear and confusion.

Love is Romeo and Juliet.

Love is poetry and songs. Love is insults and glares.

Love is spit balls and torment.

Love is fake French accents and red shoes.

Love is daydreams and nightmares.

Love is getting the strangest result 110 times.

Love is midnight walks on my fire escape.

Love is hitting my head against my desk for being so freakin' dense for so freakin' long.

Love is Helga Geraldine Pataki, and it's absolutely perfect.

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Mrs Officer

_"Then she pulled me closer, threw me in back of the car, put me in handcuffs start ripping my pants off, all you hear over the dispatcher is... oohhh.."_

Gerald reached quickly for his cell phone, frantically dialling his best friends number in eager anticipation to tell him the fantastic news – he'd asked Phoebe on a date, and she'd said yes!

Gerald waited impatiently as the dial tone abruptly ended and a loud clunk, followed by heavy breathing could be heard from the other end of the line.

Frowning at this oddity, Gerald shouted into the phone, "Arnold!"

"Not now!" Came the breathless reply, from a strangely familiar feminine voice.

Staring incredulously at the speaker, Gerald quickly responded, "Not now? Who the-" but was promptly hung up on.

Arnold Shortman looked down at Helga Pataki and raised an eyebrow at her, "Wait, I'm confused, did you just say that was Gerald?" he enquired between breaths.

"What! Are you deaf?" Helga panted in response.

"No." Arnold frowned, "I just don't understand why you _answered _it in the first place." he explained to the naked blonde girl beneath him.

Helga brang her hand to her forehead, smacking herself in exasperation, "Right, I could have ignored it. I never thought of that." she admitted with a smile, before remembering what they had been doing _before_ tall hair boy had rudely interrupted and thus commanded the beautiful blonde boy on top of her, "Arnold, _keep_ _going_."

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Yeah Baby

_"Whatever's for you I love it like my own, whenever right goes wrong you gotta fight back, til you turn it right back on, how do you like that, how you love that or how you love me and do you love me and so where the love be?"_

Lila smiled pleasantly at the old man, reclining in the lounge room chair and sifting through the pages of a well-worn photo album, a wistful look on his face.

"Hello Phil." she greeted him, stepping into the room, "It's ever so nice to see you."

Phil smiled at her, but it was forced and she could tell, he lowered the album and promptly shut it, "Oh, hello there young lady." he responded, eyeing the book on his lap almost nervously.

Lila had been partnered with Arnold for Chemistry Lab, and she spent a lot of time at the Boarding House doing assignments with him, she was certain Phil was suspicious about their relationship. Truth be told, they weren't more than friends but that wasn't to say Lila hadn't ever considered making it into something more – if Arnold still wanted to. What held her back most was the guilt, sure Helga had moved away to Florida two years ago, but that didn't stop Lila from feeling deceitful toward her for even considering Arnold as more than a friend. Lila had truly liked Helga, she had an admirable spark, a strong and tough girl who didn't bother mincing her words. Lila had respected her.

"Are those photo's from your childhood?" she prompted, "I'd love just so much to hear about how life was back then."

The older man shifted a little in his seat, giving her a strange look, "How long have you been in short man's class?" he asked, seemingly derailing the conversation.

Lila blinked, a little confused by the subject change, "Oh, since fourth grade."

Phil stood up, as though her answer had decided something very important. Carefully, he placed the tattered album labelled 'Gertie' back onto the lounge room shelf, "Now, young lady, you don't want to sit around here listening to some old coot's stories." he began, now shuffling out of the lounge room and toward the kitchen, "You just go on up to Arnold's room, I'm sure he's waiting for ya." and with that, he was gone.

Lila wasn't usually one for snooping, but left alone in the room with so many unanswered questions, she could practically _feel _the old album calling out to her. Tentatively, she made her way over to the shelf, lifted the book onto her lap and began to sift through the pages.

Photographs started out old and grainy, with a very young Phil – distinguishable by his prominent chin, and a boy who seemed to be his best friend. Behind them, or rather behind _Phil _in particular, was always a young girl with fair coloured hair, she was either tripping him or throwing something at him. Suddenly, her presence changed and in photos where they looked to be around twelve years old, she simply sat peacefully in the background of photos, a silly smile on her face

Lila got to pictures of the two at around sixteen when she finally started making complete sense of the situation. The blonde girl was now in the forefront of photos, looking at Phil in wonder as his arms snaked around her waist or across her shoulders. Lila flipped faster through the album, passing by photos of dancing, weddings, children and, finally, a little football headed grandchild.

"Phil!" Lila cried out as she raced toward the kitchen, album clutched firmly in her hands, "She moved... to Florida... two years ago." she announced breathlessly, not even bothering to clarify who she was talking about, "I know her address."

Phil eyed her curiously for a moment, flicking his eyes between the redheaded girl, the precious memories she held clutched in her left hand and Gertie, who smiled enthusiastically from across the kitchen. He was silent with thought for a long time, before he rose from his seat and announced, "I'll get the keys, meet me at the Packard – we're going to Florida!"

.

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Aston Martin Music

_"This aint the life that I'm used to, reintroduced to people I've been introduced to, did you forget me, or are you too scared to tell me that you met me in fear that I won't remember?"_

Helga sighed as entered the Alzheimer's Ward at Hillwood Hospital, pushing her car keys into her small handbag and reluctantly setting off down the brightly lit corridor. She always hated coming to see Miriam in this place, it only served as a reminder that her _dear mother_ had drank herself to permanent memory loss and left Helga, her seventeen year old daughter, to clean up the mess.

Helga had all but rounded the corner, headed for room 508 when she crashed into somebody leaning against the doorframe of room 501 and she was sent sprawling out onto the cold corridor floor.

"Helga?" an all-too-familiar voice enquired, as a strong hand was extended toward her with the silent offer to help pull her up.

Taking a deep breath, she ignored the help of the boy she had secretly loved for fourteen years and clambered to her feet unaided, "I don't need your help, Football Head." she reminded him, as usual.

Arnold nodded in understanding and shuffled his feet a little as though he was nervous, "What are you doing here?" he questioned her.

Unwilling to answer, Helga utilized a familiar trick from her years of Arnold-conversation-avoidance strategies and turned the question on him, "What are _you _doing here?"

He grimaced a little as first, but eventually motioned in through the slightly ajar door of room 501 and Helga settled her eyes on Gertie, laying in bed, and Phil in the chair nearby.

"Grandma was admitted here about 8 months ago." Arnold slowly explained, "Some days she remembers Grandpa, and on rare occasions she can identify me or Aunt Mitzy, but, today... nobody."

Helga peered a little closer at Gertie, who was suspiciously eyeing Phil as he attempted to explain something to her – probably _who _he was, but she didn't seem entirely convinced. Phil subsequently gave up for a moment, and headed toward the doorway to speak with his grandson.

"Helga?" the old man questioned in surprise as he came across her presence in the corridor, "Well, to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Oh, ah, I was just passing by." she responded quickly.

Phil nodded and, as he had always done for her, let the situation slide with no further questions, "I think we should get going short man.." he began sadly, turning his attention to his grandson, "doesn't look like Pookie remembers anybody toda-"

"Eleanor!" Gertie's excited voice rang out, stopping Phil mid-sentence and sending Helga into a wide-eyed shock.

Gertie leapt from her bed, making a beeline for the tall blonde girl and wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug, "Oh Eleanor, I've missed you so much!"


	5. Shuffle 5

My Life

_"Looking to find a way through the day, a life for the night, dear lord you've taken so many of my people, I'm just wondering why you haven't taken my life, like what the hell am I doing right?"_

(*TJM*)

Never had Arnold witnessed Helga Pataki acting like this, it was as though something in her had simply snapped and she'd become entirely disconnected with the world. In fact, she had been acting so strangely that even Gerald had bothered to become slightly concerned for her welfare.

Granted, yesterday had been a tough day, Gerald had disregarded Helga's game plan in regards to the search-and-rescue mission they had embarked upon for some important papers and had thus descended himself and Arnold into a world of trouble. Gerald had been bound and gagged by one security guards and Arnold had received a gun pressed to his temple from the other.

Arnold had replayed the previous day's incident over and over in his mind, wondering why it had caused Helga to act so strangely, _she _had been safe and sound hiding in the ventilation. Nonetheless, Helga had been distant ever since, she had been unresponsive and she had been eerily quiet – she hadn't even bothered to lash out a Gerald for disobeying her instructions.

Moments later, he startled in his position, eyes going wide. _Shit, he'd almost died and Helga had become lifeless. There was no '__heat of the moment', Helga Pataki loved him, like __really truly loved him._

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Fancy

_"Cinderella about to lose the glass off her foot, and when I find it is when I find you and we can do the things we never got the time to, better late than never."_

Arnold Shortman bit his lip a little, glancing up again at the radiantly gorgeous blonde girl with the soft wavy hair that sat across from him, his Valentine for the third year in a row now. He'd been _so _patient this entire dinner, heck for the entirety of the past year, but he honestly had to say something...

"It must be difficult for you to use my real name." He announced suddenly, causing her big blue eyes to lift up from her dinner.

The thin blonde girl frowned in confusion, "I always use your real name..."

"No." Arnold shook his head decisively, "You only use my real name once a year."

"Arnold, I only ever _see _you once a year." she reminded him with a small roll of her eyes, a little 'giveaway' that made Arnold smile.

She was correct in a way, he only did see _this girl _once a year, "I suppose in a way that's true." he finally responded, "but tell me, _Cecile_, how many times have you almost slipped up and called me Football Head?"

Her eyes immediately grew wide, "WHAT?" she cried out in panic, her hands gripping at the side of the table.

Arnold smiled a little, "It's not that I don't like seeing you dressed up all pretty once a year" he began softly, "it's just that it feels a bit strange you calling me 'Arnold' all night and it _would_ be nice to be able to stop referring to you as Cecile, it doesn't quite suit you like Helga does."

His adorable and now decidedly flustered date, simply spluttered in response "I-I... Uh, no... I..."

Arnold sighed, the first time he'd ever met 'Cecile' he wondered about her for months afterwards yet no matter how hard he tried he had never been able to figure out _who_ she was. He could hardly express how thankful he was that Helga had _assumed _he'd be dense enough to fall for it a second time last year. He wasn't though, no way, not after FTI and April Fool's Day – not a chance.

Now, here they were a third time, and there was no way he was waiting another entire year after this night.

Arnold cleared his throat, "I was waiting for you to tell me yourself..." he explained, placing his hand over hers on the table which appeared to make her absolutely tremble, "but, I guess you could say I got impatient because _this_..." he motioned between the two of them, "is something that we should do much more regularly than once a year."

And, with that comment, Helga G. Pataki promptly fainted.

.

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No Problems

_"But we don't want no problems, boy you don't want no problems."_

Gerald walked into the cold alleyway and sighed a little, he often wondered how he got himself into this mess, protecting Helga Pataki at the insistence of his best friend. Sure, Gerald appreciated Arnold's friendship, the advice he gave, the gifts he sent from San Lorenzo and all that kind of stuff, but... well, this 'job' was tiring. During the two years of Arnold's absence Miss Pataki had grown into quite the pretty little thing and upholding his oath to keeping the hands of mangy teenage boys _away _from her had become more difficult by the day.

Not that they wanted to control her life, not at all, Arnold wasn't some crazy-controlling-ex-boyfriend-who-now-lived-in-a-jungle type. All he had asked of Gerald was that he keep Helga from those with questionable intentions, keep her safe.

Surprisingly, on his trip to Helga's alleyway today, there was an unexpected body in the shadows – Helga herself.

"I know what the deal is Johannsen." she said matter-of-factly, "but go home and get some rest, you crazy kid because I can protect _myself _from the teenage masses, okay?"

"Uh, listen Helga, with all due respect... I kinda promised Arnold that I'd keep an eye on you a-" Gerald began to explain.

"Gerald." Helga said pointedly, and he immediately paid full attention as she _rarely ever _addressed him by his first name, "It's Arnold or nothing, you hear me? I'll wait for him until the very end of _forever_ and if he doesn't come back, then I suppose I'll die lonely with lots of cats. I've never even _considered _dating any of those losers you're constantly 'sussing out' for me."

Gerald blinked in shock a little, but then smiled at the girl he'd slowly come to respect over the years, "He _will _come back for you, you know? Soon as he can."

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Lost

_"Imma need counselling, I lost my mind and still haven't found it, I used to be so well rounded but now I tiptoe on hell's boundaries."_

Harold sauntered over, a defeated look adorning his chubby face as he walked away from the scene of his 'crime'. The crime being loosening the bolts on Eugene's bike and the defeated look being due to the fact that Arnold Shortman had done _nothing _about it.

"It's hopeless." Harold whined, now rejoining the small cluster of his fifth grade classmates that had gathered together in the playground.

Phoebe shook her head sadly, "I have never seen Arnold so despondent." she noted, gesturing toward the forlorn young blonde boy who sat listlessly on the swing-set.

"Dang near breaks ya heart." Stinky agreed

Rhonda shook her head curtly, and said with no remorse, "Frankly, I think he only has himself to blame."

"Rhonda's right." Gerald sighed, glancing over at his uncharacteristically quiet best friend once more, "He could have been honest with himself earlier, you know, _before _she moved away."

"Gerald, I think they're both partly to blame in this situation." Phoebe spoke timidly, now feeling a little guilty at the situation, and wondering if maybe _she _should have done something to 'push' it sooner.

"No Phoebe." Gerald disagreed, "Helga may have lied to all of us and to Arnold, but at least she didn't lie to herself."

"She'll be back in two years." Phoebe reminded them, in an overly forced optimistic tone.

"I hope those two years go fast." Gerald mumbled, and even though this was Helga G. Pataki they were talking about – he truly meant it, because he was beginning to realise that Arnold just wasn't going to be Arnold, without Helga around.

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Blue Sky

_"Day light beams, night light schemes, this is my inception, doing what I'm born to do, I see the blue sky."_

Arnold Shortman burst into laughter, causing the friends around him to adorn looks of absolute confusion and Helga Pataki to look _absolutely _horrified.

If it wasn't bad enough that her entire 'Cecile' facade had come crumbling down in one horrible night, many thanks to the Rhonda the 'Gossip Queen' herself and her nosey investigations – now it was all _worse_. Arnold's immediate reaction to the startling revelation was to laugh... _laugh_.

"Arnold..." Gerald began politely, a little worried that his friends strange reaction was rather insensitive to say the least. Sure, Gerald didn't exactly get along with Helga but nobody deserved to be laughed at, "...um, I don't really think this is a funny situation man..."

Lila grimaced a little, "I think you're being ever so rude." she lectured.

Arnold simply ignored their comments, and made his way toward his childhood bully, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and whispered into her ear, "You're an idiot Pataki."

Helga was about to contemplate if she should cry or punch him, when her train of thought was promptly cut off by the incredible sensation of Arnold's lips crashing down on hers.

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I Can't Believe It

_"They pointing and asking but we gonna keep on going, it's just me and you and ain't nobody else."_

'Why?'

It's a question, or the inevitable beginning of a question, that I have heard far too many times for my liking in regards to Helga Pataki during my life.

At first it started out with things like, '_why_ are you dating her' and '_why_ do you love her' and then moved on to things like '_why_ aren't you angry she said that' and '_why_ do you let her call you Football Head...still'.

After a while, people asked things like, '_why_ haven't you dated anyone in San Lorenzo' or even, '_why_ do you write to her everyday even though she never writes back'.

Over the time, the days and months and years, I've spent learning who Helga Patkai is – there's been one startling truth right in front of my face and that's how incredibly complex, talented and amazing she can truly be.

Helga Pataki is the most intricate and fascinating human being one could ever encounter, and the only thing people should be confused about is _why_ she picked _me_.

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Yeah, Baby

_"You could close your eyes, you can hear me when you're sleeping..."_

Helga stomped her feet impatiently, not currently satisfied with the customer service she was receiving in this particular store. She had merely gone to find a fluffy teddy bear as a birthday gift for her niece, and mercilessly bothering the sales assistant simply turned out to be a bonus.

"Football Head, honestly.." she continued with feigned annoyance, "I'm only asking about the teddy bears stamina. I mean, I need to know if it can hug _all night_, I hardly want to be let down."

Arnold, who was currently practically unable to form sentences at this point, simply stared back at her with a disbelieving look, "Uh... I-I don't..." he tried to begin.

Helga pouted a little at her secret love, or maybe not-so-secret considering she'd been rather careless lately, "I just think it would be an awful shame to wake up all alone in the morning, with nothing beside me..." she added sadly.

"Helga..." he frowned, now taking a deep breath and attempting to regain control of this situation.

"Come _on _Arnoldo!" she huffed, "Do you work here or not?"

Arnold sighed, "Yes, I work here Helga... but nobody has ever asked me about the endurance of the stuffed toys before."

"Oh?" she said thoughtfully, "I think it's a fairly reasonable question..."

Suddenly, her eyes locked onto a large brown bear with a push-button, '_Hear me talk_' said the small blue tag. A happy grin on her face, Helga turned back to face her beloved, "Can this bear whisper sweet nothings into my ear at night until I fall asleep?"

"No." he informed her promptly, a slight blush coming to his cheeks.

Helga bit her lip a little, "Hmmm... would _you_?" she almost whispered.

Arnold felt his face heat up, "Helga!" he cried out, almost in panic, "I..." in response, the tall blonde girl simply raised an eyebrow at him, sighing he admitted defeat and looked her dead in the eyes, "Yes." he admitted, "Yes I would."

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You Be Killin' Em

_"When them other hoes call, I hand her the phone and she hand 'em the tone."_

Arnold Shortman glanced down at the ringing cell phone in his hands, the screen lighting up with the name 'Melissa' and promptly threw the device up toward his bed, where it was swiftly caught by a quick pair of hands.

"Hello?" said the voice of the person lazing on his bed, as Arnold went back to his Biology homework which had been spread out over the brightly coloured carpet of his bedroom floor.

"Uh huh, it is..." came a confirmation, before a long sigh followed by, "I'm not sure, which way would you like your face rearranged?"

Arnold looked back up at the blonde girl as she hung up the phone and dropped it by her side on the bed, "Who the heck was that?" she asked.

He frowned a little, "Cheerleader?" he guessed with a shrug, he honestly had no idea.

"Criminy." Helga muttered to herself, picking up her small pink notebook and purple pen and placing them back onto her lap, "Would they get the hint already?"

Arnold smiled at her, "I'm thinking I should just write your name on my forehead?" he teased.

She smirked at her boyfriend, "Well, there's certainly _room_."

Glaring her down in mock offense, he grabbed at her hands and sent her tumbling on the floor with him, determined to 'punish' her until she relented.

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Fckin Problem

_"I love bad bitches, that's my fucking problem."_

Arnold liked nice, soft-spoken, pretty girls, he really liked them, in fact, you could say he _like _liked them. He had since as long as he could remember, ever since his very first crush, whenever that was. So, for much of his young life, or at least until he was around nine or ten years old, he was very content in chasing nice, pretty girls and trying to make them his girlfriend.

Actually, it wasn't until the moment he actually _succeeded_ in getting a sugary sweet girlfriend that something awkward began to dawn on him – he _like _liked nice girls, he really did, but he certainly didn't love them.

No, he _loved_ bad girls, wave a fist in your face and threaten to remove your organs the '_old fashioned way_' type girls. Daring girls, who weren't afraid to speak their mind, and make their presence known. Maybe, that was because even though deep down they were just as caring as any sugary sweet princess, they were _strong_ and _realistic_. Somebody who was _real_, and wasn't about to change for anyone.

And, he realised that this description was rather _specific_, and that was simply because he had finally discovered that maybe he would probably only ever love _one _person and she was all of the above.

* * *

I really need to go through these and make some of them into one shots or bigger stories, so many useful ideas... maybe soon... ;)


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